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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331526">Those moments between seconds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMisse/pseuds/MissMisse'>MissMisse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hiking, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Soup, Soup redemption, Tag As I Go</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:19:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMisse/pseuds/MissMisse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl walks across Ireland to escape her past, and Kevin joins her journey, to forge a new life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kevin O'Reilly/Original Character(s), Kevin O'Reilly/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tresspassing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! I've noticed the severe lack in extensively long Callmekevin fanfiction, and here i am to rectify this atrocity! Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was in a field. Or the edge of a garden I think. Which for the standard person in this day and age is not the ideal place to wake up, however its what my life is now and I've learned to live with it. There was a forest on my back, a house on the other side of the grass, and the soft relative silence of morning. Good, silence was a consistency I had come to treasure, after living in the busy streets of London for so long, although I was much closer to a building than I usually liked to be. I pushed myself up to a somewhat sitting position against a tree and ran through my things to find something to substitute for breakfast. My eyes were still blurry from what I assumed was sleep, although the pounding behind my eyes told a different story. I was dehydrated, but I had no water until my next stop at a shop, whenever that would be. I drink anything I get, mostly the liquids my tinned fruit comes in, but its never enough. A black backpack full of assorted clothes, a few tins of food and an old wok that's badly tied to the side are all I own anymore, a far cry from the high life of house parties and vintage wine that would have surrounded me a year ago. It's almost laughable this drastic change in pace, but even if it's not much but it's safe, secure, and most importantly, mine. As I moved the silence became less assuring, the hairs on my neck prickling as I felt eyes on me. I hoped whatever farmer lived here didn't have a pitchfork or at the very least would let me eat something before yelling at me to move on. It was honestly impressive how the stereotype was quite accurate in that regard, and I've been threatened by my fair share of them. To give credit to the farmers, I've been trespassing on land the whole time i've moved through ireland, and to them I've got to look like a scruffy backpacker that's been lost a little too long. </p>
<p>A few moments passed and, content that I was safe to snack before being threatened, I started digging through my things to find some food. It was mostly cheap tinned fruits, cheaper bags of cereal, and the occasional well rationed chocolate bar to keep my spirits up. I’d long since given up on buying anything fresh, though farms in Ireland were endless they didn't take well to trespassers and there must have been maybe two stores in the whole country with how few I've seen on my journey. It put my poor wok out of use, not that I wanted to start a fire to cook over anyway. But ever a sentimental creature I kept it with me, hopefully it'll gain use again in time. After dragging out a half eaten bag of cheerios I start munching, and the door to the old house opens. Damn. With luck I can finish the final few mouthfuls before I get yelled at to move along, and get off this property. To my surprise the man that emerges holds a glass of water and starts making his way over towards me, immediately trying to make eye contact. I was never good at that and averted my gaze almost as soon as I looked over, I dislike pity as much as aggression, although it certainly comes up less frequently. More often than not I am met with pity only when I walk into a town, which is why much of my travelling has taken me the windy route through the countryside.</p>
<p>The man didn't look overly farmerish, but they did seem to come in all shapes and sizes around here and I wasn't about to take his fairly lanky build as a weak point. He was Tall. I am, Not. He took long strides but I was far enough away it took him a fair few seconds to get over to me, enough time for me to panic and wake up fully.<br/>“Hey there, are you alright? You look a little… lost.”<br/>No kidding buddy, dragged through a hedge backwards is an understatement for how i look.<br/>“I uh, yeah, yeah I’m good.”<br/>My voice was hoarse from lack of use.<br/>“I know i'm not technically meant to be here, but do you mind if i sit and finish eating first? It's been a while and opening things while walking is a right pain.”<br/>I was mumbling, but this was the first time I've spoken to anyone in a fair while, but he seemed to understand.<br/>“Sure friend and here, you look you could use a drink.”<br/>He passed the glass over as he spoke and I faked a sip, he seemed nice but that sure didn't mean he couldn't have slipped something in it. It never hurt to prepare for the worst. Years spent with a boyfriend who went parting almost every night taught me never to trust anyone else with a drink, no matter how much you think you can trust them.<br/>“What brings you here? To cork in general, not just my backyard I hope.”<br/>He chuckled to himself while I looked down silently, deliberating on what exactly to tell him. He was in all cases a stranger, but what exactly could he do if i told him? It wasn't like he could send me back, and I hadn't done anything against the law, although it felt like I was running from it at times.<br/>“It's really a long story. Not an overly happy one either i'm afraid.”<br/>He glanced back at his house, then slowly moved to sit cross legged in front of me. Obviously intrigued by what little I had given him. I would tell him everything, I decided, the first time I would recount my story.<br/>“I've got time, and you look like you've got quite the story to tell.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Rose Colored Glasses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was seventeen when I went on my first date. He was in his twenties, rich, and paid me just the right amount of attention, always keeping me wanting. And so my first boyfriend became my only one, we did everything together. He was perfect, my family loved him, he treated me like a princess, and I fell so very deeply in love. He asked me to move in with him when I was nineteen. I said yes right away, and within the week I was living with him. That's when he first hit me. It was late and he had been drinking, and I had said some off hand quip which he took offence to. I brushed it off, still looking at him through rose tinted glasses, making excuses to myself. It happened again the following week, then the next, until it became almost a daily thing, and I learnt quickly to recognise the smell of alcohol and to hide. He caught on quickly, and started locking the doors, taking my house key away and trapping me inside. I was stupid and didn't reach out to my friends often enough, had listened to him and started isolating myself from my friends since we had first started dating. Nobody noticed when he took my phone, and I was still too in love with him to ever think of calling the police. It wasn't long after that when he took me to his bed for the first time. Against my will. That too became a regular occurrence. He went out drinking and partying often, would even bring girls home while i was there, telling them how great they were, and how bad i was. I was eaten by guilt, devoured by it. Yet still, I loved him. He would bring me flowers on sundays, tell me he loved my stick thin figure, buy me skimpy dresses and makeup, everything. I knew it was wrong, i knew i should call somebody, tell my family, but they loved him too much. I tried to tell my mother he was hitting me one night, and she got angry at me, yelling how he did so much for me, how I'd never worked a day in my life. It was true, he said he would pay for everything, which meant if I left, I would have nothing.<br/>I went to him the following night, on my hands and knees, and begged for him to let me get a job. Said I'd give him all my wages, that I wanted to do something for him. He scoffed at me, told me to show my devotion in the bedroom, and he would think about it. So I did. I loved him but those tinted glasses were starting to slip off, and I knew I needed to get out. After three weeks more of him, I got a job at a local restaurant, waitressing. I was careful, halving my tips and keeping them at work, giving my base wage and the other half to him, telling him I would give the world to him. At that point the love was replaced fully by fear, I wanted to run so badly, but something kept me. Until I started getting sick. Every morning I was throwing up, something I'd seen girls down with before. I took the test at work the day after this realisation. It came back positive. I knew at that moment i had to push aside whatever was keeping me there, that i had to go somewhere he could never get me. I knew he had a military background, and that British veterans couldn't go to ireland. It was a perfect place, I had an old friend that had moved to cork when we were fifteen. It was far-fetched that she would remember me, or that I'd even find her, but it was the only thing I had, and I clung to it like a lifeline. I hadn't stored up much money, and a flight from london to cork was double the cost as one from belfast. I would fly there and walk. My maps said it would be three days nonstop, I was a slow walker and would need to sleep in between, so I took the guess of it taking two weeks or so to get there. It was a rash and foolish plan, but once the idea was in my head, it wasn't getting out. I pulled the manager aside before i booked my ticket, asked if i could get a transfer to cork. It was a big chain restaurant, all over the world so chances were there was a shop in cork, and to my luck there was. Even better they were hiring. When the manager asked why I made some off hand excuse about wanting to travel more, flirting a little to get him to agree without question. It worked. I had six weeks to get there, and two of that was traveling, giving me four weeks left to gather what I would take without alerting anyone, and running. My passport was in date from our trip to Spain the previous year, and I knew where he kept them. Those weeks were agony, using what little money I had left I divided it into enough to feed myself for a few weeks, and spent the rest on a tiny locker to hide everything away in. I was packed within a week, I knew I would need to travel light. I did my very best to not give myself away to him, brushing off any nerves as excitement for my upcoming birthday, which wasn't for another month. He bought my ruse. The night before my flight I made him dinner, got him as drunk as I could, he slept heavily after drinking. He used me in the bedroom for the last time that night, and I vowed that what little dignity I had left, I would give to nobody. After he was well asleep, and I had spent an hour gathering my courage I gently rose from bed, took my passport, national insurance, anything he could hold over me, and ran. I went to my locker and got my bag, it was small enough to be a carry on and only contained clothes and a waterproof coat for if it rained, and a camp wok strapped to the side. I had put the money away in a bank account for when I got there. It rained that night, but as I walked towards the airport, I smiled genuinely for the first time in forever. Eight years I had been in that cage, and I was now building my own freedom. For myself, and the life I carried.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Blackout</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We sat together in silence for a while after I finished telling my story, letting him process. I had already decided that while I wouldn't trust him, there was no harm in telling my story. I was safe now, as strange as that feeling was. I noticed the tears pouring down my face only after he pointed it out.<br/>“Would you like to come inside? I'll grab ye a tissue and you can sit down, we can try to find your friend?”<br/>I pause, it was one thing telling my story in a reasonably escapeable garden, and another to do so in a house.<br/>“I'll pass thank you, it's nothing against you. I just have a few issues trusting people now.”<br/>He nods silently, thinking.<br/>“I'll bring a tissue box and my phone out here? It would be fekin rude of me to leave ya stranded out ere.”<br/>I agreed and he walked off. I tipped the glass of water over into the dirt once he was out of sight. I was thirsty sure, but not enough to trust a stranger I'd only just met and was trespassing in the garden of. I moved to stand up, pushing off the floor and using the tree as a grip, my balance unsteady. My legs were constantly hurting, but with the amount of walking I had done over the past week or so, it was to be expected. What I didn't expect however is to get fully upright, and suddenly black out, lurching back towards the tree, and only realizing what had happened after I was back on the floor. I heard worried footsteps approach but I didn't really register them. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears and watching as my vision swam before my eyes. The man's face popped into view above me, a concerned look on his face as he tried to call me, without even knowing my name. He was nice, my delusional brain thought, although most people would probably be a tad worried if some random hitchhiker passed out in their garden. Still, the sentiment was there I supposed. I tried to gargle out this feeling, but my tongue didn't want to listen to my brain. He looked panicked above me, still calling out something. Eventually the ringing subsided and I gained back my vision fully, blinking rapidly to try and send the fuzziness away faster. The look of sheer relief on his face was reassuring, he really meant no harm to me. It made me trust him, even just a little bit. I smiled, suddenly very tired again, and made a move to sit up. The man helped me, carefully placing a hand on my back and gently pushing me up, only moving away once I seemed stable enough.<br/>“Are you sure you don't want to come in? You really don't seem okay out here.”<br/>I nod spacing out, something was definitely wrong, and my head wasn't on straight enough to stop me saying no. I was running on base instinct alone, and that said to get water and let him take care of me.<br/>“Okay, you'll be okay. You can call me Kevin alright? Do you remember your name?”<br/>He was rambling trying to get me to talk, clearly worried. That was nice, to be worried over. It made me feel a lot safer, even with the little brain function I currently possessed. I mumble out my name, trying to be loud enough for him to hear me. He smiles gently, repeating it back to me and deliberately mispronouncing it to make me laugh. Slowly, painfully slowly he helps me to my feet and walks me inside, still eyeing me like I might collapse at any moment. To be fair, I probably could. I didn't realize how nice being inside of a home would be, one that wasn't tied to pain or negativity, one that was well furnished, but humble. He helped me to the sofa, sitting me down.<br/>“I'm going to go and pick up your bag and cup, will you be okay for a moment? I'll be quick.”<br/>I nodded, still dazed. The sofa was comfy, and I was already half asleep. That was bad right? Some part of my brain warned, as Kevin moved to go back outside. I did my best to stay upright and awake, if only so I could see my belongings were safe. There was nothing I could not replace in there, but I didn't want to have to waste the money on doing so. I wasnt used to living with so little funds, but that didnt mean i was stupid enough to spend money on things i could avoid. He walks back in with my bag in one hand, the empty glass in the other.<br/>“Thank you.”<br/>I mumble at him, hoping he catches it. He places my bag next to me and moves into the kitchen making sure I can still see him, filling the glass back up and then walking back to my side.<br/>“Maybe drink it this time?”<br/>He grins at me before handing the glass over, and I take a long swig. I watched him watching me, as I downed the water in seconds. He grinned at me, seemingly happy I was taking better care of myself. He sits on the other end of the sofa to me, making sure to give me space.<br/>“Look… I don't want to seem forward and I've only just met you, but my Ma told me to always help someone in need. N-not saying you're in need or anything i'm sure ye could take care just fine on your own..”<br/>He rubbed his neck, rambling once again, silly man I thought to myself.<br/>“But if there's anything I can do to help, any family I can contact I'm more than willing too.”<br/>He finished awkwardly. I paused, still slightly out of it, but aware enough to know he was making a very generous offer.<br/>“Thank you very much, I'd like to try and find my friend on my own first, stranger danger y'know?”<br/>I joked at him, trying to put the awkward feeling between us out. I was so tired of being aware of every little thing around me, every rustle of every blade of grass to keep myself safe, that i wanted to trust this man so desperately. Still he knew my story, yet I knew nothing about him.<br/>“Oh right! I was gonna lend you my phone!”<br/>He stood up and left the room, presumably to go and get said phone. My brain took the silence as its queue to make me even drowsier, and I was almost asleep by the time he returned, less than a minute later. He paused at the doorway of the room, looking over at me.<br/>“There's a spare bed just down the hall if you want to take a nap first.”<br/>He spoke quietly, and moved towards where I was sitting, or almost lying now. Gingerly he tapped on my shoulder to get me up and moving, and with me leaning heavily against him, led me through the door he just came through, down a small hallway and into a box room off the side. Silently he helped me onto the bed, as I pushed off my shoes and was dead asleep in seconds. I didn't see him watch me for a further few minutes to make sure I was okay, but some part of me realized I would not come to harm within this house, and I sunk deeper into the sheets.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Soups</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke back up around midday, and instantly felt a lot better. Still very thirsty, but less like my head was underwater. Always a good thing I suppose. Gently I moved to sit up, slowly becoming more alert to my surroundings, but in a much calmer way than when I woke up this morning. I stood, my bare feet cold against the floor. It must have been the first time in a week I'd slept without them on, and it felt strange standing without them now. I pattered towards the door and out into the hallway, tracing my steps to reach my bag. I didn't want to overstep and loot Kevin's kitchen for food, especially after he'd been so nice to me. So, tinned peaches it was. Not that they were bad by any stretch of the imagination, the sweetness being something i've sorely missed from before. The house wasn't silent, a clock was ticking on the wall and I could hear the clicking of a mouse in the room over. He must be on a computer I reasoned, although I could make no reasonable guess as to what he was doing. Maybe checking to see if what I told him was true, a nihilistic part of me reasoned. I looked around the modestly decorated space, it was nothing like the high ceilings and posh furniture of my old life, but I preferred this, a lot. Tucked into a corner was a ukulele, not quite collecting dust but clearly not used frequently. I looked back at the wall separating me and Kevin, debating on if he would mind if I played it. Some distant part of me remembered loving music lessons as a child, and the cheap plastic ukuleles that the school loaned out to torture parents for a term. I still remembered the basics, and surely, surely he wouldn't mind? Gingerly I plucked up the courage to walk over to it, and, still hearing the clicking in the other room, I brought it back to the sofa. I plucked a few strings gently, before I started playing space oddity, the only full song that came to mind. I got through the first verse before I began to sing quietly, slipping into the familiarity of it, despite having not even seen a ukulele for years. It wasn't my primary instrument, and I was incredibly out of practice, but before long the comforting lure brought me to be playing a little louder than before, until a second voice startled me. I continued playing, now aware Kevin had obviously heard me and walked in to see what the noise was. He was singing along grinning, and I took it as a sign to finish the song. As I strummed the last chord he walked into the room fully, grinning like an idiot. <br/>“You've certainly got good taste in music i'll give ye that.”<br/>I looked down at the ukulele in my hands and smiled softly.<br/>“Sorry for stealing your ukulele, it looked lonely in that corner.”<br/>I joked, trying to abate any anger he might feel, making myself smaller on instinct. <br/>“Hey, hey it's okay the poor thing gets abandoned in that corner a lot it could use a little love.”<br/>He moved further into the room and knelt near me, making sure to give me enough space to feel safe. After a few moments I uncurled myself a bit and was able to look at him again.<br/>“How about somethin to eat?”<br/>He eyed my unopened tin of peaches still sitting abandoned next to my bag.<br/>“I was thinkin something more like sandwiches?”<br/>He smiled softly, and for a beat I could not comprehend why this man was being so nice to me. Was I not some strange girl who had trespassed into his garden, told him a sob story then passed out on him? That didn't seem like a good base to build a friendship on. He took my silent debate as a yes and stood, motioning me to follow him. I did, ukulele still in hand as we walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and frowned, it was all but empty.<br/>“Sorry i don't tend to make food for myself, although i'm the greatest cook in the country things do tend to simultaneously combust from my sheer skill in the kitchen.”<br/>I laugh softly, and place the ukulele down on the side.<br/>“Well lucky for you I can cook, and not start fires while I do so, if you'll let me borrow your kitchen? I make a mean soup.”<br/>He paused and turned slowly towards me, seemingly pained at the mere mention of the food.<br/>“This is a no soup household, it doesn't count as food.”<br/>I laughed louder and stepped behind him to try and look into the fridge, I saw nothing as he was so tall, he blocked the whole thing from my view. Stepping back I look at him.<br/>“It's the food of cold weather and low moods, Plus you've never tried my soup.”<br/>I pouted at him, knowing full well I could make a basic soup from what I have in my bag. He looked at me grudgingly, still not convinced.<br/>“I'll give it one chance but if I don't like it you've got to eat my portion too.”<br/>Well played Mister Kevin, but I brushed off the predicted negative outcome and went to grab my bag.<br/>“Deal.”</p><p>Half an hour passed and we chatted away, Kevin telling me his life story instead this time. It was nice, domestic even. The soup was simple, just some tinned tomatoes, the last of kevin's butter scraped from the pot and a diced onion, but the beauty was in its simplicity. I would make a soup lover out of kevin yet. As I was finishing up kevin pulled out a bowl so I could pour it in, and took out a spoon for him to try it. I would make him change his mind over this if it was the last thing I did. Salting it while it was still in the pan then giving it a good stir, I gestured for Kevin to take a spoonful.<br/>“I don't like soup.”<br/>He mumbled with good humor, moving to stand in front of the pan it was in. Carefully he dipped his spoon into the edge of it and drew the smallest amount known to man onto the spoon, glared at it, then proceeded to eat it. I watched his face carefully, and to my delight he silently looked back down at the pot, then went to go get out a second bowl.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thats all ive got written up for now! stay tuned for more :p</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Mario Kart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We ate together in relative silence, with my constant amusement at getting Kevin to eat soup causing me to break out into the occasional fit of giggles. He was so grumpy as he all but downed his bowl, obviously I'd broken a key emotional rule of his. Once he was finished he paused looking up at me.<br/>“Do you mind if I take a photo of this? I don't think my fans will believe this has happened.”<br/>He smiled to himself, obviously a joke I wasn't in on, yet. He had told me of his online persona while we were cooking, but had still yet to explain his issues of soup to me.<br/>“I once said I don’t like wet food, and soup is the wettest of foods. This, this is my one exception.”<br/>He said it so seriously, I couldn't help but snort.<br/>“Go ahead and tell people all it took was three ingredients to make you take back one of your defining characteristics.”<br/>His horror at this realisation was hilarious, and he decided after much deliberation that he would tell nobody of this, and that I couldn't either. I motioned that my lips were sealed, through fits of giggles. Eventually we fell back into a comfortable silence.<br/>“So, would you like to try and contact your friend? It's probably best to do that while it's still light outside.”<br/>He broke the silence by offering his phone to me, smiling.<br/>“I-I don't know her phone number. I was hoping to look her up in a library when I got here, to try and make contact with her.”<br/>I sighed quietly, this was the hardest part of my whole escape plan, finding someone out here to help me get settled, maybe loan me a spot on their sofa for a few nights while I get set up here. He looked at me for a moment before unlocking his phone and opening safari.<br/>“What's her name then? I can't make any promises but I can see if she has an instagram or something else to contact her by.”<br/>I paused for a moment, in disbelief of how accepting he was. There was no judgement over my lack of plan, no criticizing me or anything. It was the complete opposite of what I was used to, and it threw me for a moment. Collecting my composure I tell him her name, fidgeting nervously with my hands. She was my lifeline here, and I was terrified she would turn me away. Kevin noticed my fidgeting and offered me a warm smile.<br/>“It's okay, what's the worst that could happen? Ye safe here, I promise.”<br/>I nodded at him, starting to fall into my own panic. A part of me knew that what he said was true, but my mind felt like it was going through a shredder, and it hurt just to think. I didn't notice Kevin move until he was besides me, placing a hand on my shoulder and kneeling to my eye level. Gently he pulled my chin up so my face was pointed at his, I still couldn't meet his eyes.<br/>“Breathe okay? Follow me, in n’ out now.”<br/>He exaggerated his breathing to make it easier and I focused on matching them, Slowly calming down. It wasn't the first time that had happened, but it was the first I had someone calm me down from it. Eventually I was able to look up and meet his eyes, as they were full of worry. The only words I could produce were stupid ones, but I said them before thinking.<br/>“You have pretty eyes.”<br/>It was so senseless, and I hated myself right after saying it, but apparently it was the right thing to say, as Kevin fell back and laughed, almost bringing himself to tears.<br/>“You come down from a panic attack and that is ye first thought? Im flattered really.”<br/>And in that moment with all the emotions of the day, I broke down laughing too.</p><p>After our laughing fit Kevin finally looked up my friend and sent her a message, after creating a new account for me, to avoid the people who knew my old one. He gave it some silly name, and we had a good laugh as it was created. Once everything was done, there was nothing we could do but wait.<br/>“If she turns you down there's always a spot here for ya. I've enough space for the two of us, and I think ye’ve proven not to be some form of murderer.”<br/>I smiled at him, there really was no better garden to accidentally wander into.<br/>“Thank you Kevin, you may be tall and fairly intimidating, but I see the big softie under that.”<br/>Sticking my tongue out at him I grinned back, as he feigned hurt.<br/>“I am the manliest man out there I'll have ye know!”<br/>We both laughed, settling into our own brand of humor. Eventually we moved from the table back to the sofa, and Kevin challenged me to a game of mario kart.<br/>“I've never actually played mario kart before…”<br/>I spoke gently, I'd learnt he was very into gaming, but I was never allowed, it was deemed not girly enough for me to take part in by both my mother and boyfriend, and I had never questioned it.<br/>“Don’t worry, once you see turg you'll know there's not much to fear.”<br/>He chuckled to himself, and turned on the switch, showing me the atrocity that was Turg. We played for hours, until the sun was setting outside the windows and Kevin's stomach interrupted us.<br/>“Well m’lady, would you care for pizza for dinner? The local store does delivery, its traditional gamer food after all.”<br/>Giggling at his antics as he tipped an invisible fedora, I decided to play along.<br/>“Why I would love that my good sir, we must uphold tradition after all.”<br/>While pizza was being ordered I started rummaging through my bags, hoping some of the money I had stashed away would help pay for my portion.<br/>“Ye better not be tryin to pay me back for this, you made lunch its only fair I get to do dinner.”<br/>Damn, he caught onto me. I was also out of cash once again, and couldn't pay him even if I wanted too. Still, I refused to let anyone pay for me, and instead handed him my final chocolate bar.<br/>“I cant have people pay for me anymore Kevin, at least take something so I don't feel like I owe you?”<br/>He sighed and nodded, taking the chocolate bar from me and placing it on the kitchen side.<br/>“Alright then, but no putting yourself out of pocket for it okay? I won't have ye hurtin when ye didnt need to.”<br/>I nod to him, it was a reasonable deal. Hopefully I would have a job and an apartment by the end of the week, and although a friend was not part of that plan, I certainly wasn't going to turn it down.</p>
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